Blood And Iron
by Leia Avenrose
Summary: A secret cult hopes to bring their 'god' to life, but something goes terribly wrong. Former queen of the world somehow hears of the girl and wants to find her, but someone is holding her back. Who? What will happen? Strangely this small girl is connected


**Disclaimer****:** I don't own _Gundam Wing__ã__…_I only own the storyline of deceit, sex, drugs and death. Enjoy! ^^; 

[One **note**; in the beginning of this story; chapters 1 & 2, you must read **carefully** to fully understand what is happening. I wrote this story on the case of _children_ these days. You can ask, if you're curious, about what this story is about in reviews if you wish or emails, but just please read carefully so I don't have to deal with flames on how my story is stupid and doesn't make sense. Arigato! ^_^;]

            **Dedication:** To *_Sagittarius Girl_* & _Taemyr…_they believed…

~Blood And Iron~

By: _Lynzi Knight___

Rating: NC-17

Chapter 1 – Undone Deeds 

"_I cry for you and you cry for me._

_Well, can I loving_[LK1] _ you forever?_

_Nobody knows, what color is true love?_

_Where is true love? Fall in love, it's true._"

There were packets scattered around the pavement. The room was dark. The air was dank and sweet. Loud, callous tones reverberated off the walls. Someone hooted loudly and then slowly let out a hiss of pain through tightly compressed lips. There was another hoot followed by a chorus of them. The only light illuminating the root cellar was provided from a lone oil lamp set in the heart of the floor. A large group of assorted youth surrounded the lamp. The oil was running small. The dim light cast uncanny shadows against the contours of everyone's face. Their eyes looked like they had sunken back into their sockets and were outlined in reddish-black shadows. The skin around their cheeks and jaw line stuck to bone, outlining it nicely.

            A long, lethal looking syringe was passed around the group as soon as it was refilled for the next person. The hands passing the syringe trembled uncontrollably. Eyes were dull and darted back and forth nervously as they shot glances at the syringe. It was their life-giver. It was their nurturer. It helped them in ways that others could not. It helped them see life in different perspectives, different light. The leader of the semi-large group nodded and flashed a thumbs' up to the youngest member of the group, Genevieve Saki. The youngest member was only seven years old and looked as if she were older, more like sixteen. Her dark chocolate brown hair was long, going to just about her knees with bangs splayed across her high forehead. Her eyes were the darkest shade of blue, a Prussian blue with a hinting of gold around the pupils. She was short, rather small for her young age. She stared at the leader from underneath her unruly bangs and swallowed thickly. She was scared. 

            "Are you sure?" She bit her lower lip. What would happen to her?

            The leader, Jon Demarche nodded positively. He carried a small smirk on his thin lips. "Yes, young Gene. Once you have one taste of this, you can never get enough. Aren't you sick of the torment that your family put you through? All that abuse? Don't you want to get away from it all?"

            Genevieve's eyes seemed too big for her small heart-shaped face. She continued to stare at Jon. Many of the other members bobbed their heads up and down. They needed her to join them and in order for her to join and become a full-fledged member of the group, she had to take the shot. She seemed a little doubtful, but then what the leader had just said did make sense. She _did_ want all the torment to go away. She didn't want to have to go through all the abuse that her father and mother put her through, all that agony. It was too much for her little mind and body to take. A smile lit up her face, the sunken contours under her eyes looking ghastly in the dim light of the oil lamp.

            "I will try it. Will it hurt me?"

            Jon shook his head immediately. Excellent! She was falling for the bait. He knew she would. "No, not at all, Gene. It will only help you. Believe in it and it will do its wonders. Look at the rest of us. Don't we look happy and high in the sky?"

            Genevieve nodded and then scooted her bum over to the closest person. She extended her arm, her hand falling forward slightly. Her nails were dirty as was the rest of her body. She needed a bath desperately. She watched in fascination as a girl who looked ten, but was really eighteen, took her arm gently and then pushed down on the flesh. It was all bone underneath, no meat at all. This was what the group wanted from the youngest member. Bone. The girl's name was Babbs Borough. As soon as the syringe was passed to her, she immediately shook it a few times and then tapped the side of it. She pushed down on the plunger and clear liquid squirted out into the air. It was time.

            Babbs pressed down on the flesh at where top arm and forearm met, just at the elbow. She brought the tip of the needle onto the flesh and drew a figure eight. Liquid was left on the dirty skin in that pattern. There was a soft hissing sound and Genevieve gasped loudly as she felt her skin burn suddenly. At that moment she knew that the needle was bad for her. It felt as if her skin were being torn from her bones. It frightened her. She didn't know what was going on. A scream echoed throughout the root cellar immediately and the rest of the group bolted into action as the little seven-year-old began to tug her arm away from Babbs who tried to soothe her with dead words. The little girl began to kick and thrash against the arms and hands that suddenly grabbed at her to still her down.

            Something rough was pressed over her mouth as she felt the hard, damp ground beneath the torn dress that stood between her body and earth. Hands gripped her neck, pinning her head in place. Hands gripped every section of her arms and legs, pinning them in place to the ground. Someone with a heavy build sat on her stomach and kept her from twisting her torso around and around. A pair of hands moved slowly away from the elbow with the figure eight. That was their sign, the sign that she was now partly apart of the group. If someone found her, later on, they'd finish the rite. As Babbs licked her dry lips feverously, she lifted the syringe up over her shoulder and then one side of her lips drifted upwards as a mad gleam took place in her eyes. This was pure madness!

            Genevieve's Prussian eyes went wide, her dark eyebrows shooting up in horror and surprise. The dim light from the lamp caused the sharp tip of the needle to glitter dangerously. It shone a bright ray of light into her eyes and she cringed visibly. This wasn't happening to her. It wasn't real. She was still asleep in the bed of newspapers in the back alley with her mother by her side and her father across on the other side of the street. It was all a nightmare, or that's what she wanted to think, for it was a nightmare coming true. For a moment, as Babbs let out a vicious laughter and let the syringe plunge at crucial height, the little girl laying on the ground paralyzed now in fear thought of the time she had met the Queen of the world. She had been a pretty lady with bright blue eyes that were sincere and beautiful. Her hair had been piled just at the back of her head and fell around her neck and around her tiara in curls and lace. Some sort of flower adorned her golden-brown hair and had made whispering noises against her neck, or was that the rustling of her long flowing dress against the black marble floors of the Peacecraft Manor?

            None of that mattered at the moment as she felt a sharp stabbing pain at her forearm. She snapped back into the bitter, resented reality and let out an ear-splitting scream that caused some of the cult members to recoil. Some of them pulled their hands free to clamp them over their ears to block out the horrid screams that only a frightened and lonely seven-year-old could make. Something warm and yet chilling sank into her sink and sailed through her veins with her blood. It felt weird at first for her, but after laying on the ground completely still, the members all thought she had suddenly died from the injection. They all removed their hands and took a step back away from the girl who lay twitching every now and then on the hard floor. They didn't know what to think. The one to guide them into Armageddon and the Judgment Day just seemed to be no more to their deadbeat eyes.

            "Is she…dead?" asked Babbs. She took the syringe from the girls' arm and dropped it absently to the ground as she rose to stand by the leader.

            Jon squinted his dark eyes. He watched the girls' chest for a movement, his eyes drifting to her face every once and a while. He caught her chin trembling as if she were crying, but where were the tears? He shrugged his broad shoulders. "I'm not sure. She doesn't appear to be moving."

            Ginger Leroy stepped up to Genevieve's body. She crouched down to her hunches and pressed two fingers to the slender neck. "She's alive!" she declared. She sat back on her hunches with her arms rested on folded knees. She watched the girl for a moment. "Let's get her moving around a bit, it'll help the drug to settle."

            Jon nodded and motioned for everyone to help. No one was alone within the group. Everyone helped everyone out, no matter what the costs where or how high the risks were. "Once you get her, bring her to the room and we'll finish this once and for all. I'm sick and tired of having to wait for The One."

            Ginger nodded, as did Babbs. The two women picked Genevieve up gently and then began to follow Jon who led the way for many. Everyone made a path for the two women with the girl as they approached. Everyone held their breath. They were in fear for the girl. What if she didn't make it? What if she went into cardiac arrest from the force of the drug? What would they do then? Jon took Genevieve from their arms and laid her out on a metal table at the far end of the root cellar. He hoped no one was going to crash their ritual. He silently prayed to his God. Genevieve lay on the table in complete silence, her eyes open and wide. They stared up at the dark ceiling. Her mouth was twisted into a grimace, a deep one. Her face was contorted in a mask of pain and fear. Both emotions went together well as a package deal.

            "Our mighty Lord up in Heavens', hear our solemn plea; let the girl make it through, if not for us, then for you, out mighty Lord." Jon began in a deep baritone voice as he raised his arms to the roof. "Once is well, your land may dwell. All together for The One, we shall have more then just one son. O Lord, take thy sword"—he paused for a brief second and bent to retrieve a sharp, long sword from underneath the table—"and become rather then one, but none."

            Ginger slowly went down to a knee, her head bowed deeply as she spread her arms out at her sides. Jon licked his suddenly dry lips and turned around to face her. Raising the sword up to his mouth, he outstretched his tongue from between his lips and then ran the blade vertical. Copper pooled beneath his split open tongue as he then twisted the sword in one hand. Bending down swiftly in a motion of blurriness, he plunged the sword easily into Ginger's chest. The blade made a hefty, repulsive sound as it pushed through the spine and snapped it in half. The blade protruded from the back dripping crimson along the jagged edges. He withdrew the sword and Ginger toppled to the ground with her hands to her chest, folded in the style of praying. She was praying, praying to her God.

            One of the members slowly approached Jon and extended two hands, palm up. Jon didn't pay any attention to the deceased Ginger as he stepped over her to walk half way to the member who continued to approach him. Taking the blood stained blade, he ran the blade along the palms of the member and grunted as he sliced the blade horizontal. Crimson slid from the palms down the bare forearms and dripped off the bottom of the hands onto the ground. Jon nodded and let the sword clatter to the ground noisily. The member with split open palms lifted her hands and ran her bloodied palms down her face. Streaks of blood started from the hairline and then went down the long length of her oily face to her chin. Afterwards, she thrust her arms up into the air, a triumphant smirk on her full, and crimson colored lips.

            Her final words were spoken as she spread her fingers wide and closed her eyes. "Let the Lord take thy blood and cast upon thee thy immoral sin." A scratchy hiss came after her final words and she dropped to the ground on her knees until falling to the ground completely.

            Jon turned away from the two girls and looked down into the face of Genevieve. He noticed the veins showing through the flesh. They were pasty color, as was her skin, only darker. The dark circles around her eyes went darker and her face seemed to have lost most of the flesh, sticking whatever flesh wasn't sucked dry to bone. It was rather repulsive to stare at, but he just stood there staring. 

            _Only a child,_ he thought in bitter sadness, _but oh well. Thy Lord has plans for thee, young one. You are truly special to us and to him. The One is what we shall now call you._

Jon smiled softly as he reached out with a trembling arm to place his hand over her eyes. Touching the lids with the tips of his callous fingers, he pulled them down and kept his hands rested on her eyes. "With thy immoral touch, thou shall be called no more such. With thy immoral words, thou shall fly with the birds. With thy immoral glance, thou shall take thy lance and strike!"

            The eyelids fluttered to life under his palm. There was a hoarse gasp for air and Jon snatched his hand away as Genevieve blinked rapidly, her eyes moving around quickly beneath the fluttering lids as if unsure of what to do. They were lost. The leader took a step back away from the table and watched in silence and shadow as the little girl slowly sat up with closed eyes. She swung her legs over the edge of the table and let them hang there. She sat hunched over, a hand to her forehead. Her crusty dark brown hair hung around her face and spilled over her trembling shoulders. Jon was unsure of what to do. What if she turned on him like the last ones had done? What if the reincarnation hadn't worked out as planned? Their Lord would arrive! 

            "Are you all right, young Gene?" Jon outstretched a hand towards her.

            Genevieve kept her head bowed, hand pressed to her forehead. Almost as if unsuspected, she lashed out at him, her little jaws snapping viciously at the outstretched hand. They missed the fingers by a few centimeters. Jon stood his ground. Genevieve now lifted her head and stared at the leader in the shadows. The dim lamp was quickly thinning now, the tiny flame flickering constantly as it turned from a healthy orange to a dull, pale blue. The other members stayed away in the shadows watching the young girl upon the table. What had they done? What was she? Who was she? 

            "I feel funny," she whispered, her small voice hoarse and full of fear. "My arm and head hurts. My whole body hurts!"

            Jon bit his lip. He pitied this small child. He knew of the consequences of what was to happen to her, but it had to be done; the prophecies had foretold it within the scribes of Tsar. "I'm truly sorry, little Gene, but I wish I could help you, I really wish I could. I only wish to ease your pain, not to make it worse."

            "Make it stop!" the little girl moaned loudly. She gave out a loud, harsh scream as her body was jerked back by invisible hands that grasped her shoulders tightly. "No!"

            There was sudden shouting from upstairs and Genevieve's screaming increased in volume and vigor. Her throat was now scratchy and her screams came out as dying rasps. Jon snapped his head towards the stairs leading up to the kitchen of the abandoned mansion in the East part of Germany. How was he going to get her safely to the Sanc Kingdom without any troubles? In order to get to the Sanc Kingdom, one had to cross a series' of borders and then border security. No! His plans were beginning to fail him already. He had gotten so far, and now he was going to fail. Unless he…

            "Open up! We have you surrounded and we don't want anything to happen." Heavy footsteps were heard overtop of them. 

            Jon silently cursed and rushed forward to quiet the girl. With a hand clamped over her mouth, he pinned her down to the table with his body. He stared her straight in the eye, his face grave. "Listen to me, Gene. You must flee, save yourself. I don't care what you say. You cannot stay here. If you feel like risking your life, then so be it, but I cannot and will not allow that to happen. Flee to the Sanc Kingdom, Genevieve. Seek out the Queen. Seek refuge with her most protective and loyal bodyguards, they can protect you from anything. Remember when you went to see the Queen and you saw her all dressed up in pretty clothes?"

            Genevieve stared at him, her eyes wide. She nodded her head slowly, tears slowly coming to her eyes. Her Prussian blue eyes turned Neon Indigo. 

            "Seek the Queen, Gene, and make sure she receives the papers. Tell her about Armageddon, about the Judgment Day. Tell her about everything! Do not forget about what we have just spoken about," he hissed, taking his hand from her mouth and slowly bringing her to stand on the ground. He reached into his pockets and handed her a few papers with indecipherable letters and sentences scribbled on the front of them. "Go now. Never look back on this day unless it be essential."

            Jon pulled her close to him and pressed his lips to her forehead. "Be careful, Gene, and do not let anyone other then the Queen herself see those papers and your mark." He draped a dirty afghan around her shoulders and then turned her around. He handed her the little oil lamp, the last one he and everyone else was probably going to see ever again. Giving her a little shove towards the other cellar door that led out into the courtyard, he smiled at her as she glanced back at him. He sensed her pain and fear as it mounted when he had kissed her forehead. The child seemed to exude a bizarre, yet familiar aura of mistrust and insecurity. He remembered a fellow man that he had met a few years back that had exuded the exact same auras. Strange…

            As he watched the little light fade in the distance. He saw the cellar door open and then close. The light was gone. They were all abandoned into the darkness without a Lord to protect them. Angry shouts were barked just outside the cellar door in the kitchen and then it was thrown open. Bright, harsh light spilled down into the dark cellar and some of the members cringed away and hissed at the quickly approaching figures. Dogs barked in the distance and fear momentarily seized his heart. What if she got captured on the way to the Sanc Kingdom? What if they weren't able to decipher the note of emergency? The Queen and The One were the only two human beings in the entire universe who would be able to make sense of the note he had quickly scribbled. 

            Jon's thoughts promptly left his mind as a pair of forceful hands detained his arms. He shot one last fraught glance at the cellar door over his shoulder as he and the rest of the small cult were hauled up the small set of stairs.

*          *          *          *          *

            "So the cat says to the mouse 'Judgment Day is just around the corner. Do you feel lucky, Punk? What are you going to do?' And the mouse gives the cat a fowl look and scowls 'What do I usually do whenever Judgment Day _actually_ shows up? I eat you!'"

            Relena Peacecraft laughed softly as the Medical Officer; Sally Po applied some peroxide to the small gash diagonal from her right eyebrow. "That wasn't that funny, Duo, but thank you for trying." She continued to laugh softly and cringed as the medicine stung her wound. "You don't have anymore, do you?"

            Duo Maxwell furrowed his brow in consideration. He sat on one of the metal stools across from the medical table with an arm propped on his knee. He balanced his chin on his knuckles and chewed on the inside of his cheek. "No, I don't think so, and besides, you don't seem to like them. Oh well."

            The former queen of the world chuckled lightly. "I find them amusing whenever I'm getting dressed for a wound. They seem to ease the pain." She offered him a smile. "And besides, I wouldn't be able to do any better if you were in my situation."

            "But, you see, I'm not in your situation," he pointed out with a deep laugh. He stopped laughing and his usual humorous and cheerful expression died.  "Look, Relena, I'm really so—"

            "Don't even think of apologizing to me again about what had happened," Relena cut in. "That…Noventa woman deserved it, but then again…I shouldn't speak."

            "True, true. It's just that I'd never thought I'd live to see the day where Relena Peacecraft, former queen of the world and of pacifism _around_ the world would punch someone out, including another member of royalty at that! It was pretty amazing though." He grinned from ear to ear.

            "It might have been amazing for you, but it hurt really bad for me. Noventa doesn't seem to like me much, huh?"

            Duo shook his head and glanced at Sally who was applying the bandage to the wound. "Sylvia can be an underhanded fool at times, but what she did tonight is just down right playing unfair. It was a good thing she attacked you first."

            "And why is that, Duo?" Sally spoke.

            "Huh? Oh, well because Relena got the last word in."

            Relena's gloved hands fluttered to her mouth and she giggled behind the satin material. Sally shot Death a withering look and went on with her work. There was a light rapping at the door and then it slowly opened. A blonde head popped in from behind the door followed by an entire body. Quatre Raberba Winner stood with his arms crossed over his chest. He walked over to stand by Duo and tilted his head to the side as he observed Relena's current condition.

            "You'd think I were dying or something," she muttered under her breath. Sally heard her little comment and smirked behind a thick braid that fell in front of her face.

            "They're just worried about you."

            "I know, but they've seen me in worse conditions."

            "Yes, but still. All right you're all finished." She straightened and scratched her head.

            Relena reached up and gingerly fingered the little bandage covering the end of her eyebrow. A smile came to her lips. "Will I have a scar?"

            "No, I don't think so. You shouldn't, I mean it wasn't _that_ serious. Just a little scratch, that's all."

            "And Sylvia's a different story?" piped Duo.

            Sally chuckled and began to put away her medical supplies. "Yes, I believe so. Miss Relena did punch her pretty hard."

            "Yeah! Did you see all that blood?"

            Quatre rolled his aqua colored eyes. "Well, it's all over now, so can we just let the matter drop?"

            Relena looked at him. She noted the trouble hinting along the edges of his tightly compressed lips. "Is everything all right?"

            "No, I'm afraid not, Miss Relena."

            "Then, Quatre, what is it?" Relena stepped down from the table and smoothed out the wrinkles in her ball gown. She directed her full attention to the seventeen-year-old Arabian in front of her.

            "News has it that there was some cult ritual thing happening down in Germany. East side. Supposedly the day called Armageddon and Judgment Day are arriving soon and news will be brought to your attention. A little girl is missing, her parents reported her as a missing child who seemed to have disappeared just last night. Her parents went to check on her and found her gone. I'm not sure where she could be, but I do hope she wasn't involved in that cult ritual thing. Those things are horrible and always result in death."

            Relena swallowed thickly and nodded. What would she ever do if her child had been taken or just disappeared in the night? She didn't want to have to think of that just yet. She offered him a small smile of reassurance. "It'll be all right. Do we have a name for this little girl?"

            "Genevieve Saki." There was deep sadness in his voice.

            Duo let out a low whistle. He appeared to be more shocked by the name. "Are you serious? Is that who was abducted?"

            Relena turned to look at him. "Yes. Why? You know her?"

            The god of death stared at the former queen and licked his lips. There was a tense moment between them. He let out a chuckle and brought a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. The tension didn't exactly leave the room. "No, I mean at least I don't think that I know some little girl with that name."

            "Are you hiding something from us?" Sally demanded.

            "No!"

            "Are you sure?" 

            Duo nodded. "Yes. I was just wondering. Sheez, can't a guy be curious as to who disappeared?"

            "Hn."

            "You're starting to sound like Heero," Quatre pointed out.

            Relena blinked and blushed softly. "Sorry. I was just thinking of the little girl. Speaking of Heero, where is he? Has anyone seen him around?"

            Everyone looked at each other and silent words passed through eye contact. Three heads then turned back to her and nodded. "Bedroom." They all said in harmony.

*          *          *          *           *

            "And that was all they had said? Are you sure?"

            The deep voice on the other end of the cell phone sounded troubled. Something was definitely wrong. Ki Jackson absently chewed on the inside of his cheek. He had to fix this problem pronto or else something worse then what was now happening would develop and then explode within the universe. He didn't want that to happen. Ever since he had left Colony L1 in the L1 Cluster, things had been turning wrong for him. The time was drawing near. Deadline time was close and it frightened him.

            "So you're saying that if we can find her in time, everyone will be safe? No harm will come to her?"

            "Yes. If we can find her, she will be protected and then well provided for. Clothes, food and other accessories, you name it. I hope that you can find her before anyone else does, Mr. Jackson. I'm sorry to have been the one to told you this, or break the news to you, but this is a grave matter. If that child is not found, Armageddon and Judgment Day will hit us harder and faster then we had estimated."

            Jackson sighed heavily and ran a hand into strands of unruly dark brown hair. Bangs swept back into place, splayed across the forehead and the eyes that shone a bright Prussian blue. "I wish I knew where to start looking," he muttered into the small device at his ear. He glanced around. "Where do you wish to meet?"

            "Meet?" 

            "Isn't that why you called?" Jackson answered, hesitantly, perplexed.

            "No. I only called to see if you knew of the missing child."

            "It's a _child_ now?"

            "Yes. Jon had been very fond of children, but he decided to use the child for the Giver instead of a full grown adult. He figured out the hard way that adults weren't too great of Providers for the Lord."

            Jackson was stunned beyond words. He didn't know what to say. He had known Jon throughout junior high school when his baby brother had disappeared at the age of two from daycare. Jon had been a silent person, but he had a lot to say to those who had wanted to hear it. Jackson remained silent. He stared at the ground for a few seconds until a rumble on the other line snapped him back into the world. He listened to the next words with an expression of shock and disbelief that adorned his angular face.

            "The Providers and the Givers are the ones, Jackson, who are the essential ones in the world. The Providers are the ones who give the Lord the key of reincarnation. The Givers are the ones who just give their body and mind for the Lord whenever he passes through the Gates of the Anonymous. Whenever the Lord passes through the Gates of the Anonymous, all hell breaks loose somewhere in the world until the Lord passes through the last Gate. If the Lord does not pass through the last Gate, we mortals are all ill fated. 

            "The Lord then enters our world, the world of Immoral Sins. When that happens, we all die a horrible death. We will die slowly and painfully. If there is anyone out there in the world who could go beyond that pain, then may the Gods be with him. Bless him if he is out there within our grasp. If you know of such a guy, bring him forward, Jackson. Do not hide him from the Fates. Do not hide him from the Lord. Jackson, if only you knew from experience the pain and suffering the Lord has passed onto our world from just passing through the Gates of the Anonymous during the last Turn."

            Jackson licked his lips slowly with what seemed a dry tongue. How was he going to find this guy? "Who is this guy that you are talking about?" he swallowed thickly. "Do you even know where to find him?"

            "No. I'm sorry that I do not. I wish I could find him now, but he seems, if he even exists, to be concealing his steps wisely. It was as if he didn't want to be found." The voice faded out slowly.

            "So then, how do we not know that you could be this mysterious guy who could save us all?"

            "Oh, Jackson, you have it all wrong! I'm not him. This mysterious guy can't save us."

            "Eh? Then what are you talking about? What _can_ he do for us?"

            There was silence on the other end of the line. A rustling of paper sounded and someone cleared their throat. "This mysterious guy cannot save us, Jackson, all he can do is 'take thy lance and strike!'"

*          *          *          *          *

            Relena silently draped the ball gown onto the top of the hamper. She sighed heavily as she stood in front of the sink. She stared at her reflection with her head tilted to the side with scrutiny. _That poor girl, how frightened she must be, _she thought in sadness. She wondered where the small child was hiding now. Had she really been abducted or had she just walked away from her family? The Queen of the world had been thinking of this the entire night. Ever since she had walked out of the room in the back of Peacecraft Manor, she couldn't stop thinking about the little girl and what kind of fear she might have been feeling at the moment, what kind of loneliness she had been experiencing. She turned the tap on full. The water poured out in large icy spurts.

            Dipping her hands together, she thrust them forward and watched as the curved bowl filled with freezing water. Just what she needed? Relena bent forward and closed her eyes as she splashed the water against her face and stuck her hands under the water again to redo the process. She let out a little giggle as the water dripped off the tip of her nose. She splashed her face again and then let out a loud hoot as some plump droplets of water went down the front of her black nightie. She shivered slightly as someone knocked on the closed bathroom door. Wonderful, just what she needed. Blindly, she turned the water off with clumsy, wet hands and then went in search for the towel that sat on the counter by the sink the whole time.

            Rubbing it against her flushed face, she walked over to the door and unlocked it to then open it. Heero Yuy stood in front of her dressed in a guards' uniform. Relena rubbed at her face some more before draping the towel across her slim shoulders. Cool air from the open French doors floated into the room and hit her partially naked body immediately. She glanced down and felt her cheeks go warm, as she realized then that she stood in front of him in just a skimpy nightie. When she lifted her head, his deep Prussian blue eyes were on her face, nowhere else. She flashed him a smile to hide her embarrassment as she turned into the bathroom to grab her housecoat and wrap herself in its warmth. 

            "What are you doing here? Don't you ever sleep?" she asked, walking out of the bathroom to sit at the vanity table across from her large bed.

            Heero didn't follow her. He just turned on the heel of his feet and stayed where he was, in front of the bathroom. "I only sleep when I feel it's needed. Why did you yell out?" He got right down to the point of his being there.

            Relena stared at his reflection in the mirror with a look of skepticism. "You can't be serious. Human beings need their sleep, Heero. I'm sure you're tired as we speak. After what happened with Sylvia Noventa? I think you would. I know I do." She reached up behind her and undid the hair piled at the back of her head. The fine silk tresses spilled down her back and over the front of her shoulders in lazy curls.

            Heero's expression never changed. It was always set on deadpan. He just stared at her; his Prussian blue eyes seemed to stare into her very soul. "After what had happened with Sylvia Noventa, Relena, you should be worried about your reputation with the ESUN. Not about sleep."

            "Do you honestly think that little feat she pulled at the conservation party is any worse then what I pulled?" She left two thick strands of hair hanging by the sides of her heart-shaped face as she began to braid the long hair loosely. Her eyes sought his in the reflection. "I don't think so, Heero. It wasn't my fault in the first place."

            "You were the one who made a few _too_ many serious comments towards her," Heero pointed out. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, the muscles in his arms flexing under the fabric of his suit.

            Relena ignored that comment and tied an elastic around the hair at the end. Her braid ran down the back of the chair now. She reached for her brush and began to brush at her bangs that hugged her forehead and eyebrows neatly. "All I'm saying is that she started it."

            "And all I'm saying is that you're the one who complied to it all."

            "What's that supposed to mean?" She slowly rose from the chair. Heero was making his way towards the door that he had left ajar. "Where are you going?"

            He paused for a short second and glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. "I'm going to get some sleep, Relena, as _you_ had advised."

            _To Be Continued…_

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'"  [LK1]Hamasaki Ayumi & Tsunku – LOVE~Since1999~ (_REALLY_ great song, a **MUST **download!)


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